


Come So Far

by hellapeachy



Category: Majin Tantei Nougami Neuro
Genre: F/M, Gen, Post-Manga Ending, neuyako is mentioned but it's not the main focus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-16 04:22:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13046391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellapeachy/pseuds/hellapeachy
Summary: A series of drabbles for MTNN Week on tumblr.Set after the manga's ending.





	1. Prompt - Partnership

**Author's Note:**

> Heyo, I’ve decided to write some drabbles for MTNN Week, all corresponding with the prompts for each day! As for the title of this collection of drabbles, though, I didn't really want to name it just "MTNN Week Drabbles", so I chose a generic title to use that I think will work. But, like it says in the description, it's still subject to change if I think of something better. 
> 
> Anyway, this is the first drabble for the first prompt: Partnership. And it took me a lot longer than I’d like to admit to finish this because I was having a little trouble with the ending, but I… think I’m mostly satisfied with the end result?
> 
> Feedback and/or critique is always appreciated! Enjoy!

The sun is nearly set and a small amount of stars are just barely visible in the sky by the time she remembers what day it is.

 

Yako stares at her phone, a blank expression on her face as she slows to a stop in the cramped entryway of her tiny apartment. Her mind has been so preoccupied the past week while working a particularly elusive case that she’s hardly even had the time to think about dates and times besides those that were relevant to suspects, victims, and witnesses. But with everything wrapped up, the puzzle devoured, and her mind free to focus on something _**other**_ than her job, realization dawns upon her so quickly that it almost makes her gasp.

 

It is the _**anniversary**_ –of both her father’s funeral and meeting Neuro.

 

In past years, it’s not usually something she’s bothered to acknowledge or take much note of. Yes, it had been the day that her entire life had been flipped on its head and she’d been sent down an entirely different path, but she’s never seen any reason to actually _**do**_ anything out of the ordinary because of that. The only time she can even remember doing something solely because of the anniversary was taking some fresh flowers to her father’s grave the previous year. But at the moment, standing in her entryway, the date seems to hit her like a truck, practically freezing her to the floor.

 

Because suddenly pieces click together in her mind and she thinks about how Neuro had acted a little strangely earlier that day. That is so say, he had actually _**praised**_ her. Once the case was closed and the mystery had been settled inside his stomach, he had turned to her with the content, mischievous expression he wore whenever he ate a puzzle that was larger than that of the norm. Yako recalls expecting him to grab her by the head and slam her into the ground or throw her over his shoulder so she would land in a crumpled heap on the street; it’s not unusual that he “tortures” her for “fun” after he’s been fed. But no–instead, he’d raised a hand, roughly slapping her upon the back as a smirk spread across his lips.

 

“ _You were surprisingly useful today, top-slug. To think that you could actually be a competent partner–I don’t know that I can truly believe it.”_

 

She, of course, had been shocked. Praise from him was rare, and hearing him refer to her as his “partner” was even rarer. But, even as her eyes had lit up in surprise, she remembers her mouth automatically shooting back a retort to his back-handed compliment, sparking a very _**routine**_ exchange of banter before the demon had inevitably ended up pushing her into a bush and lighting it on fire. After that, she had grumbled the entire way back to the office about how one of her favorite skirts had been singed, sending him glares while he only offered a blank smile in return.

 

His words hadn’t been forgotten, of course. They’d tingled and buzzed in the back of her brain throughout the rest of the day and on her trip home. But it was only when she’d walked through her door and bothered to check her phone that the possibility of what’d caused his uncharacteristic behavior had even crossed her mind. Did he… did Neuro actually remember what day it was too?

 

–Or, well, _**obviously**_ he remembered. It was unlikely that he had forgotten the date of the day he’d first met her. “ _To forget is to cease to evolve”_ , after all. A more appropriate question would be: did Neuro regard that date with enough _**significance**_ to actually _**do**_ anything out of the ordinary? Such as offer her a rare compliment? Or call her his “partner” for once?

 

The idea seems almost laughable, even as it bounces around in her head. The anniversary of the day they’d met, just a silly little date on the human calendar, wasn’t enough for a demon such as him to even bat an eyelash. And yet, Yako still can’t help but wonder, because that title, that _**word**_ is so significant for the two of them.

 

_**P a r t n e r**_.

 

Their relationship is multi-faceted, and they play so many different roles in each other’s lives. Sometimes he is almost like a mentor, his methods of making her evolve _**harsh**_ but still effective in their own way. Sometimes it is she that tries to teach and spur growth, answering his idle questions about why humans act the way they do, and trying to help him _**understand**_ because she is not going to be around to do it for him forever. Sometimes, they are nothing but _**professional**_ , their joint focus only on their work and tracking down puzzles **(** save for when he finds ways to “torture” her even while working **)**. Sometimes, they are sitting together during their downtime in _**comfortable**_ silence, or talking about whatever comes to mind. And sometimes, her fingers are tugging at his hair, her teeth are biting at his lips, and she’s pressed so close to his body she thinks she might _**melt**_ into him entirely.

 

No single word is all-encompassing; none except “partner”. And that is why it is so _**important**_. A word that describes what they share so perfectly, not leaving anything _**out**_ , yet not elevating any _**one**_ title above the others. A word that does not feel like they’re trying to force a demonic square into a human circle, or vice versa. A word that simply allows them to… _**be**_. Exactly as they are. Even if others don’t really understand, they don’t have to. Because it makes sense to _**them**_.

 

So, all of that in mind, Neuro deliberately calling her “partner” seemingly out of the blue on the anniversary of the day they met can’t simply be a coincidence, can it? She refers to him as her partner far, _**far**_ more often than he ever does to her. As such, when he lets the word pass through his lips, it always has deep significance. And while it was true that she had definitely pulled more than her fair share of weight during the case they’d just worked, he usually doesn’t even bring out _**compliments**_ for something as simple as that!

 

Minutes pass, and she’s still standing in her entryway, staring down at the phone in her hand, despite the fact that its screen has long since turned off. Her thoughts run tireless circles in her head, contemplating whether or not the demon had merely been in a particularly good mood, or if there had actually been more of a reason for what he had said. Even her stomach giving half a rumble doesn’t _**fully**_ pull her attention; it only makes her blink and absently file away a mental note about making dinner before she’s right back to pondering. What ends up finally snapping her free of her thoughts is the sound of her living room window sliding open, and the sensation of the outside air rushing across her skin.

 

Brown eyes snap up from her phone, and Yako watches silently as Neuro steps in through her window as naturally as though he’d used the door. And for just a moment, just a _**split**_ second, she wants to add _**this**_ –him showing up at her home on the same day they’d met years ago, the same day he’d called her “partner” for the first time in months–to the equation and attempt to _**solve**_ it.

 

But then their eyes meet across the apartment, and her mind stops racing, stops trying to _**overthink**_ something that, she realizes, really doesn’t matter in the long run. Whether it is all just coincidence or he really does regard the day of their meeting with any amount of significance, she decides she doesn’t need to know. As much as she might _**want**_ to know, she doesn’t _**need**_ to. She doesn’t need to search his gaze for an answer, or pick his brain for a clue. He likely wouldn’t give up any information to her willingly, anyway. All that really matters is that, for whatever reason, he had said it. He had given out praise, he had called her “partner”, and he’s currently standing in her living room, silently staring her down with curiosity in his gaze.

 

There’s no urgency in his frame or expression, and that alone is enough to tell her he hasn’t come because of a new puzzle. He’s there because he _**wants**_ to be for some reason or another. And before she can help it, Yako begins laughing quietly to herself, making the demon’s head tilt ever-so-slightly.

 

“– _What’s so funny, slime mold?_ ” Neuro asks, suddenly looming over her from behind. He’s already managed to cross the length of her apartment and slip out of her field of vision in the blink of an eye as though it was nothing. She’s not fazed at all, though, and only shakes her head a little while slipping out of her shoes and stepping up to slide her feet into a pair of slippers.

 

“ _Nothing, really. I just realized I was overthinking something simple is all,_ ” she explains while beginning to walk towards her kitchen. However, her pace quickly slows and she turns back around to look at him before he can make any sort of comment to take a jab at her intelligence. Already she can tell that he has an insult on the tip of his tongue, and she cuts it off with an exasperated smile before continuing. “ _And… I’m glad you’re here… partner._ ”

 

She half expects bladed talons to shoot out and wrap around her head, accompanied by a condescending retort saying that she’s being bold to refer to him so familiarly. But, to her surprise, nothing of the sort comes. The demon remains silent for a few moments, staring at her in what almost seems to be contemplation. And then, his irises glow just a little bit brighter in the darkness of her entryway, and Yako can feel her smile widen. He rarely, if ever, expresses satisfaction with being called in such a way with words–only with his _**eyes**_. And she can see it plain as day in his gaze, even if his face and body are still as stone. As his partner, that’s all she needs to receive in response to understand.

 

Though, their quiet moment is soon broken by another rumble from her stomach. And in an instant, a sneer splits his lips, showing off his sharp teeth as he steps forward to _**loom**_ over her once more.

 

“ _There goes your insatiable stomach again, maggot. Perhaps I should tear it out so it doesn’t make so much noise._ ”

 

“ _Pass,_ ” she responds instantly, whirling around to keep walking towards her kitchen. Though, she can tell that he’s following right on her heels. “ _And like_ _ **you’re**_ _one to talk._ ”

 

That comment earns her a swift meeting with the floor, and Neuro chuckles as he shoves her head against the hardwood with his shoe. A series of grumbled protests leave her mouth as she tries to fight against his press so that she can get up and make herself dinner. And the harder she pushes, the harder he forces her down, a sadistic grin stretched across his face the entire time.

 

Partnership aside, some things _**never**_ change.

 


	2. Prompt - Rivalry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A series of drabbles for MTNN Week on tumblr.  
> Set after the manga's ending.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the second drabble for the second prompt: Rivalry. It's shorter than the last one, and didn't end up fitting the prompt as well as I originally planned it to. It went a little off the rails once I started writing. But I think I'm still happy enough with it haha.
> 
> Feedback and/or critique is always appreciated! Enjoy!

That she can remember, it’s the first time this has ever happened to them.

 

They’ve both realized who the culprit is at the _**exact**_ same time.

 

For any regular job that they work **(** one that’s not on any sort of larger scale and doesn’t take them more than a day or two to solve **)** , it’s not always easy to see the precise _**moment**_ when Neuro’s actually connected every dot and decided he’s ready to break it down step by step. An ever-so-slight tug of a smile upon his lips, a twitch of his brow, a momentary flicker of his true nature reflected in his eyes—his reactions are subtle. Which isn’t very surprising since most cases aren’t too much of a brain-teaser for him in the first place.

 

She, on the other hand, is a little easier to read than her demonic partner. Not that she is over the top or an open book, of course; she certainly knows how to behave in front of culprits and clients so that she doesn’t give anything vital about her thought process away. But in the presence of those she can trust, when the metaphorical pieces click together in her mind, Yako is much more _**candid**_. Her eyes widen, her spine straightens, and her lips part just the littlest bit. Even cases that don’t test her abilities too much can still elicit more _**subtle**_ reactions—it is rare that she is completely devoid of any sort of emotion.

 

And they both know each other’s ticks and habits; hell, they can converse with just their _**eyes**_. Of _**course**_ they can read the signs and tell when their opposite has cracked a case or at least figured out something of significance.

 

So, when she cranes her neck back to look up at him and present the demon her thoughts, what she sees throws her for a loop. They’ve both come to a conclusion and turned to face each other not even _**seconds**_ apart, almost as though some invisible force had moved their heads in unison. Even he looks just a _**little**_ surprised.

 

They have definitely had close finishes before where one reaches an answer right before the other does. But more often than not it is Neuro quickly deducing the method of the murder and tearing any alibi to shreds, caring very little about the why—because that’s her job. And even with it being her forte, she still doesn’t always work as _**fast**_ he does. Yet on certain cases that are dripping with human emotion and require _**her**_ talents to unlock the puzzle, she can often excel and beat the demon to the punch.

 

And though they are the perfect partners, making up for what the other lacks while working with and not against one another **(** “torture” excluded **)** , Yako won’t deny that she enjoys being able to hold it over him whenever she can actually keep pace or even pass him. This is no exception, regardless of how surprising and eerie their simultaneous revelation may be. Once she is able to break free of her stupor, a grin spreads across her lips, and she raises an eyebrow at him.

 

“ _—Another point for me._ ”

 

“ _Excuse me,_ _ **mealworm**_ _? Is that_ _ **boasting**_ _I hear? When you haven’t even bothered to explain who you think the culprit is?_ ” In an instant, his gloved talons have snapped out and harshly grasped her skull in a painfully tight grip. “ _I think you’re getting a big head. Perhaps I should_ _ **pop**_ _it._ ”

 

“ _Owowowow,_ ” Yako rattles off, her face contorting in discomfort as her hands fly up to tug at his sleeve in defiance. “ _I am_ _ **not**_ _! It was a_ _ **joke**_ _!_ ” Mostly.

 

“ _A poor one,_ ” he says, tightening his grip just a tad more. “ _You would not receive a point for a simple tie, even against me. Now, tell me who you think has committed this murder, and if it’s correct, I_ _ **might**_ _consider not splitting your skull open like a melon._ ”

 

“ _Hey, who says I wouldn’t get a point for a tie?_ ” she shoots back, brows tightening in a blend of both mock and genuine offense. “ _There are games where a tie will give both players a point instead of neither getting zero._ ”

 

“ _In hell, a tie means that both participants are_ _ **dead**_ _._ ” Pinching the fabric of the glove on his spare hand between his teeth, Neuro yanks the fabric off his body to reveal bladed fingers. He runs them lightly across her throat, his expression absolutely _**menacing**_. But she knows he would never actually do such a thing to her; Yako doesn’t even flinch. “ _So_ _ **no**_ _points._ ”

 

“ _We’re_ _ **not**_ _dead, though,_ ” she deadpans back to him before yelping when he twists her head sharply to the right, shooting pain through her muscles. “ _Ahgh! Fine, fine! It was the mother that did it! There’s a million small signs that she’s unhealthily attached to our client, even if she’s good at hiding it from most people. Not to mention, I found out the park where the murder took place holds great significance to her because of our client, and she’s had a history of causing a scene or two there in the past. I think it’d make sense for her to plan something in that location since she knows it like the back of her hand and holds such an intense emotional attachment to it. Especially considering who the victim is._ ”

 

There’s a short pause before she is dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes. This barely fazes her, though, and the so-called “detective” is back on her feet within a matter of seconds, brushing off her clothes and massaging her neck after its rough treatment. He says nothing, staring down at her as she readjusts herself as though he is pondering her words. And once their gaze meets once more, she can’t help but smile a little. There’s a palpable sense of _**satisfaction**_ reflected in his eyes, their demonic nature deepening in a way that she hasn’t seen directed at anyone else but herself.

 

“ _—Hm. Your assumption is correct, slug. It was indeed the mother,_ ” he says, slipping his glove back upon his hand before heading across the room. “ _But_ _ **how**_ _she did it, I will explain after you have played your part._ ”

 

“ _Right._ ” Grabbing her purse, she follows after him, rushing to match the demon’s pace and walk side by side with him down the hallway to where their client and the culprit are waiting. And once they make it to the door and Neuro begins to turn the knob, she can’t stop herself from whispering, “ _I still think I got a point, though._ ”

 

The door flies open, and before she can even say her line, Yako's own fist shoots up to punch herself in the face, rather than point at the murderer.

 


	3. Prompt - Mystery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A series of drabbles for MTNN Week on tumblr.  
> Set after the manga's ending.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s the drabble for “Mystery”. This one actually went pretty smoothly; I knew what I was going to write for it the moment I saw the prompt haha.
> 
> Also, the word "ultimate" has lost all meaning to me for at least a month after writing this.
> 
> Feedback and/or critique is always appreciated! Enjoy!

Sometimes, she wonders about the “Ultimate Mystery”, and what it would mean for humanity. And Neuro.

 

If any species is capable of creating the "Ultimate Mystery” that he seeks, Yako knows without a shadow of a doubt that it is humanity. Despite their short lives, they carry inside them a near infinite potential for evolution, which is the perfect catalyst for the creation of not only endless mysteries, but also the possibility of that lofty goal: a puzzle to _**thoroughly**_ satisfy her partner's hunger. Perhaps it wouldn’t be in her lifetime; perhaps it would take many, many long years of waiting and him struggling to survive on her plane before it is born. But regardless of how long it could take, the possibility is there. She truly believes that.

 

And yet... she still can't help but wonder what the birth of such a mystery would mean for mankind. The puzzle that he had eaten after the defeat of Electronic Person HAL had been huge. So huge, in fact, that he'd even remarked his stomach had bloated from its size. Though, at the same time, he had also lamented that it had not been as large as he'd hoped—that it wasn't the “Ultimate Mystery”. If what he'd gained from that case was not even close to the size of what he wanted, a part of her could not help but be uneasy at what sort of case _**would**_ be.

 

HAL, while not on the same level as Sicks and the New Bloodline, had still been a considerable threat to the world. And though with enough time others could have figured out the password like she had, whether that would have been enough is still up in the air in her mind. Because Neuro had used his demonic tools and demonic strength to win. Not to mention, he'd been immune to the Electronic Drug. Sure, he had collaborated with humans and had relied on her for the important task of breaking the last barrier, but the fact still remains that he possesses abilities that humans do not have. There had been very little damage done and very few casualties due to how quickly they had gotten in and dealt with HAL. Perhaps eventually humans could have overthrown him on their own, but she had no doubts that it would have been at a _**great**_ cost—one that hadn't been needed with Neuro around. She almost shudders a little just thinking about it, pulling her blanket tighter around her as she stares at the wall of her bedroom.

 

If a threat like that hadn't even been close to creating the puzzle that the demon desired, what would? If there had been any sort of mystery wrapped up in the whole Sicks fiasco, would _**that**_ have been enough? Had it not been for the two of them, humanity likely would have lost. And Neuro had put himself on death's door to assure that win. Yet still Yako wonders if something on the level of The New Bloodline would be enough. Though, there's a nagging in the back of her mind that shouts “no”.

 

And so, it begs the question: what _**would**_ be? What sort of mystery would have to be born into the world for it to be considered the “Ultimate”? And what sort of threat would that pose? Humanity had been on the brink of extinction because of Sicks, though most did not know it. Would it have to be something even more threatening than _**that**_? Would it have to mean the end of the world itself, and not just the humans that inhabited it? Brow crinkling at the mere idea, she rolls over onto her back and gazes up at the ceiling where her demonic partner is fast asleep. If that is the case, what does that mean for Neuro? If that is how the “Ultimate Mystery” manifests itself in the world, would he drain himself dry again just to pursue the puzzle?

 

_Of course he would_ , she thinks instantly. It's his true goal—his dream. He'd chase down the “Ultimate Mystery” even if it kills him in the process. And for a moment, her heart clenches before she forces herself to move on to a **(** hopefully **)** happier thought: what if he actually _**succeeded**_ in consuming it?

 

The echo of the demon's gleeful laugh after he'd eaten HAL's puzzle bounces around in her memories, and she can't stop her mouth from twitching ever-so-slightly into a smile. He would be giddy beyond belief, no doubt. A puzzle big enough to satiate his hunger for the rest of his days? The most delicious thing in all of existence to him? While she isn't exactly sure she'd be as thrilled at such a concept as he is **(** she likes to eat _**far**_ too much; not having to do so ever again would actually be a bit _**sad**_ **)** , she can understand his excitement. His longing. And to have that fulfilled would put him over the moon, _**that**_ she is certain of.

 

But what then? Demons live incredibly long lives, and while he has never told her his true age or how long he expects his life to stretch, she can tell from the way he talks that he isn't exactly _**old**_ yet by demonic standards. Even if he waited hundreds of years on Earth for the “Ultimate Mystery” to appear, it likely wouldn't be much of a dent in his lifespan. She knows that survival of the fittest reigns in hell, and she can definitely understand how never having to worry about hunger ever again would bring a great amount of joy and accomplishment. But would he truly be satisfied never needing to solve a puzzle ever again? Would his restless mind, always wanting to soak up every scrap of knowledge around him, truly be able to quiet?

 

Obviously, Yako knows that if one goal is achieved, it's not as though someone cannot find another, new goal to pursue. And perhaps the same could be said for Neuro. Maybe he would find something else to pursue if he ever did accomplish solving and eating the elusive “Ultimate”. But what would it even be? And would he be content?

 

—So much for a “happier” line of thought. Letting her eyes slip closed, she brings a hand up to rub her temples a few times while she breaths a soft sigh. It's unlike her to get so caught up thinking about such things. Fussing and worrying over completely hypothetical future situations she probably will not even be around for accomplishes nothing; it's only a distraction to what she should be focusing on: the present. But it's the middle of the night, and sleep is eluding her for some reason she can't entirely nail down. Even as Neuro sleeps right above her on her bedroom ceiling, she is left tossing and turning in her bed while her mind runs wild. She knows the common ways of trying to fall asleep: counting sheep, shutting her eyes and breathing slowly to relax, and more. But try as she might, nothing is working, and as a result, her mind wanders.

 

Perhaps she's thinking about it all wrong. HAL's puzzle had been the closest they'd ever gotten to the “Ultimate Mystery” case-wise. But what if it is not manifested like a case that they're used to solving? What if it is something _**different**_?

 

To triumph over HAL, Neuro had needed her help. And the help she had provided had been to do what the demon could not: discover the human emotion weaved into it all. Harukawa's love for Setsuna, and his anger at the fact that he could not cure her disease. His inability to accept that recreating her perfectly was impossible, and creating a virtual copy of himself to try in vain for eternity. And that double's need to undergo its task, but struggle with the emotions it inherited and the futility of its job. How all it had really wanted was to cease, to be deleted and freed. All of it had been so deeply steeped in _**humanity**_ and _**emotions**_ —concepts that her partner still struggles with and most certainly would not have been able to comprehend at the time.

 

Could that be it? Could the “Ultimate Mystery”, instead of being a case that needed to be solved, be something as simple as... _**understanding**_ the way she does? Yako's brows tighten a little, and she's tempted to shake her head and brush the idea aside; it sounds a little silly when she actually considers it that way. But while it may sound mundane to her, she has to remember that she's thinking about a demon from hell. Both he and she have their respective strengths, and make up for what the other lacks. Despite the fact that her skills of deduction have improved tenfold since knowing him, discovering the “how” is still his forte. Try as she might, and no matter how she improves, she would likely never be able to beat him at what he does best. But the very same can be said for the flip side.

 

Neuro left his home because the puzzles there were bland and boring. Even the smaller mysteries from her world are better that most anything he'd eaten in hell. Or, so he claims. And the more complex the emotions motivating the case, the larger and tastier the meal is. At least, that's how it seems to her based on questions she's asked regarding the topic. And it just so happens that those cases are also the ones he's much more likely to need _**her**_ assistance with...!

 

Sitting up in bed, she runs her fingers through her hair a few times before glancing upwards at him again. Could that really be it? She'd never expected the “Ultimate Mystery” to be something easily obtainable, but her worries about the difficulty usually go in the direction of fearing he'll die somehow pursuing it; either by waiting and drying up before it appears or it being too big an undertaking even for him because of how he is at a disadvantage in her world. But... was that _**wrong**_? Could it already be right under their noses?

 

Is the “Ultimate Mystery” to Neuro... _**humanity**_?

 

The more she thinks about it, the more she begins to believe it could be entirely possible. But, it of course means something very crucial if true: there's no “ultimate” _**meal**_ to gain. Humans will never stop creating mysteries for him to solve, but if they themselves are the true “Ultimate Mystery”, Neuro's goal of finding the _**one**_ mystery large enough to quell his hunger eternally is... likely derailed. Would he be able to accept that?

 

_Yes_ , she thinks as the demon on the ceiling moves his head ever-so-slightly in his sleep. Surely he'd be disappointed, but he is nothing if not logical. If it is ever proved to him that what he seeks is different than he expects, he will certainly adjust his goals and plans accordingly. And for the time that she has with him, she will keep doing the best she can to not only continue evolving herself, but aid in his own evolution as well. She isn't going to be around to tackle the human side of cases forever; and if he ever wants to be able to do it on his own someday **(** perhaps he doesn't, she isn't quite sure **)** , he will need to continue _**learning**_. And she can do it; she knows she can. If he lets her, Yako can help him unravel the mysteries of humanity little by little—whether they end up being the “Ultimate” or not.

 

And, with that thought cemented firmly in her mind, she lays back down and closes her eyes, finally managing to drift into sleep.

 


	4. Prompt - Evil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A series of drabbles for MTNN Week on tumblr.  
> Set after the manga's ending.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the drabble for day four: "Evil". This one got a away from me a little, and once again ended up not fitting the prompt as well as I’d planned. But that’s okay, I guess haha. Nothing to do about it now!
> 
> Feedback and/or critique is always appreciated! Enjoy!

It's been a long day, and all she wants to do is cook herself dinner and relax.

 

But, even though he's not even physically in her apartment to do so, Neuro is _**still**_ managing to make that desire difficult to fulfill.

 

Close to three weeks prior, she'd received an e-mail from a friend in America with a recipe attached for her to try out. Yako never lets a new meal opportunity go to waste, no matter how difficult to get any of the ingredients may be. She had planned to make it and respond to the message with her feedback and thanks as _**soon**_ as possible. But, unsurprisingly, life had gotten busy. Cases had poured in, a large majority containing suitable puzzles for her partner to chase after and fill his stomach with. Not to mention, she still does some independent work of her own that takes up even _**more**_ of her time. Before she'd known it, more than half a month had flown by and she hadn't even gotten a chance to _**touch**_ the recipe.

 

Which is why, even though her day has been packed with cases and she's tired, she's making the soup anyway. Because what better way to wind down is there than to cook herself a good meal and then devour every last drop?

 

Nothing is ever that simple, though. Especially with a _**demon**_ for a partner.

 

She's mincing garlic cloves while cooking bacon in a pan next to her on the stove, and all the while, three Evil Fridays are frolicking across her counter top. They're deliberately tripping over her utensils, rolling around in the other ingredients she's already prepped, and flinging measuring cups at her head while she works. And though it's nothing she can't handle **(** she deals with Neuro on a daily basis, after all **)** , she won't deny that it's _**annoying**_. Especially since she had been trying to _**unwind**_ and _**relax**_ after a marginally hectic day.

 

Her eyebrow starts to twitch a little as she tilts her head to dodge a spoon; it seems they've started to invade her drawers as well as her counter. It likely won't be long before they've pulled everything out and tossed it down onto the kitchen floor for her to clean up later. And if they move into other areas of the house and start to do the same...! Biting down hard on her lip, Yako pushes down the urge to stab at one of the demonic tools with the knife in her hand. It's _**Neuro**_ who is toying with her, using the little bugs to disrupt her work. Trying to destroy them **(** if she even _**can**_ **)** will do nothing but bring _**more**_. Not to mention give him the satisfaction of seeing her patience wear down, the damn sadist! No, she has to keep her cool. She's dealt with _**far**_ worse on days _**far**_ more stressful.

 

“ _Just focus on the soup and how much you're going to enjoy it,_ ” Yako mutters to herself under her breath, doing the best she can to push through the distractions.

 

And even with the interference, it isn't too terribly long before she has all of the ingredients prepped and has moved on to actually making the soup. Her stomach begins to rumble while she stirs kale into the pot and flicks away one Evil Friday after another as they try to climb into both her hair and her unfinished meal. Their numbers have increased now, from a mere three to... _**probably**_ around eight. Honestly, she's lost count, and they've been moving around too much for her to have a number really nailed down. She almost regrets not trying to stab one of them while she'd had a knife in her hand since the demon had apparently been planning on sending more over regardless. Now her knife is long gone **(** more than likely thrown on the floor somewhere **)** , and she needs to keep her attention on the boiling mixture in front of her.

 

Bacon, heavy cream, and sausage follow the kale a few minutes later, and she waits for it all to simmer while continuing to ward off the demonic tools. One _**nearly**_ makes it into the pot by leaping down off of her head, but she manages to catch it mid air with her chopsticks like something out of an old martial arts movie. Filing that away as something to recount to Godai the next time she sees him, the so-called “detective” flings the eyeball bug across the room before reaching for the pepper she had laid out earlier. But, not all that surprisingly, her hand only meets bare counter top, the shaker no where to be found. Almost as though it had simply vanished.

 

She knows that's not the case, of course—it's been tossed to the floor or hidden somewhere. But in all of the chaos, she hadn't even noticed when it had happened or where they could have put it. So, in a sense, it may as _**well**_ have vanished, because the chances of her finding it while also keeping the tools at bay are unlikely. But, she's already come this far. She might as well _**try**_.

 

“ _This is getting a little ridiculous, Neuro,_ ” she says aloud, finally addressing the demon behind the Evil Fridays while she begins to scan the floor with her eyes. “ _Is it_ _ **really**_ _worth the energy to have this many of them here to mess with me while I cook?_ ”

 

Approximately five eyeballs crash into the back of her head not moments after she asks the question, and Yako rolls her eyes to the sky. That was a resounding, “ _yes, it_ _ **is**_ _worth it,_ ” it seemed. Shaking her head to get them off, she turns back to the soup to make sure it is still all right. After all the work that she has put into it, she'll run all the way back to the office and punch her partner right in the face herself if he mutates it or makes it inedible somehow. It's been at least four hours since she's last eaten and she's _**starving**_!

 

Her eyes focus in on the stove, and suddenly everything seems to go into slow motion.

 

Save for one, every single Evil Friday is soaking in the soup, splashing each other as though they're in some sort of swimming pool. And while that alone is _**more**_ than enough to make one of her eyes start to full on twitch, it's not even the _**most**_ distressing. Right there, dangling above the pot, is the last of the bugs holding her pepper shaker. And it's in the process of unscrewing the lid while staring at her without a single shred of remorse.

 

She practically throws herself across the kitchen in an attempt to stop it, but she's too late. In the blink of an eye, an entire shaker full of pepper has been dumped into her soup. And the other demonic bugs only continue their swimming, making sure that every last bit of it gets thoroughly mixed in.

 

After about a minute passes of her staring helpless at her stove, Yako feels something within her snap just the _**tiniest**_ bit. And not a moment later she's fighting all of the invaders in her house at once with her chopsticks. She plucks them out of the pot and flings them across her apartment, throwing all of her windows open so she can whip every last one down into the street. She normally can't fight back against Neuro if he tries to ruin her meals, but the bugs? She'll take her chances. They're mostly just observational tools, and have been easily destroyed by others in the past. They can't hurt her _**too**_ much, can they?

 

An answer to that unspoken question comes only after a few beats as countless more Evil Fridays swarm in through her window and cover her body entirely. She lets out half of a shout and stumbles a few steps backwards, flailing her arms in an attempt to shake them free.

 

“ _This is a waste and you know it, Neuro!_ ” she yells, reaching for a book on her coffee table with which to continue the fight.

 

An hour later, she's lying on her floor out of breath and completely disheveled, but triumphant. Or, well, that's what she _**tells**_ herself. More than likely her partner simply grew bored and called his tools back to leave her alone with her cold, peppery soup. Letting out a long, loud, irritated groan, she lifts herself up off of the floor and stumbles back over to her stove. She stares blankly down at her dinner, wondering if she should heat it back up and eat it, even if it _**does**_ have an entire shaker's worth of pepper dumped inside of it. On one hand, she's definitely eaten worse; Haruka's cooking left its mark on her, and she can eat most anything without too much problem so long as her mother hasn't had _**any**_ part in preparing it. But on the other hand, she had really wanted to give accurate feedback to her friend about the recipe. Which she can obviously no longer do.

 

Another grumble from her stomach rips through the silence of her kitchen, and Yako's shoulders slump in defeat.

 

As insanely peppery as it turns out to be, it's still no where near the cooking abominations she'd put up with at home. A solid five out of ten.

 


	5. Prompt - Justice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A series of drabbles for MTNN Week on tumblr.  
> Set after the manga's ending.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the drabble for the fifth prompt: Justice. This one gave me a little trouble at the end, because it ended up a little different than I had originally planned. I think I’m still... mostly okay with it, but I might try to rework it at some point in the future so It doesn’t bother me as much as it does now. SHRUGS.
> 
> Feedback and/or critique is always appreciated! Enjoy!

When she opens the door to the office, her expression is a strange combination of both suspicion and exasperation.

 

“ _Is there any particular reason a woman shouted at me and told me I'm terrible when I got out of the elevator today?_ ” she asks, closing the door behind her and hanging her purse on one of the hooks on the wall. “ _Did you turn someone's case away again, or did you spread some new rumor about me online that went_ _ **viral**_ _since I checked the news when I woke up?_ ”

 

Her tone is sarcastic, but also filled with genuine curiosity when she turns to face the demon sitting behind Troy. It isn't exactly unheard of for him to spread false information about her for a laugh. Though most people usually write it off as gossip unless there's some way to back it up somehow, there's still a _**decent**_ amount of the public that will take it at face value and pounce. It doesn't usually faze her all that much—she's gained thick skin since being forced into the spotlight during her teen years. Even articles that get published about her outrageous eating habits don't bother her _**nearly**_ as much as they used to. But the particularly hostile tongue thrashing she'd gotten from the woman on her way into the building does make Yako rather suspicious of what the her partner had done, if not decline a case because there was no puzzle.

 

Neuro remains blank-faced for a few moments, almost as though he's trying to draw out any suspense and keep her wondering simply because he wants her to sweat. But, after she nonchalantly expels a puff of air out of her mouth to blow a stray piece of hair out of her eyes, he finally relents with a shrug.

 

“ _There was no puzzle to be had from her nor anyone involved in her case. As I've told you before, the police have likely overlooked something simple,_ ” he explains before throwing a book at her head as though it is a perfectly normal thing to do during conversation **(** to be fair, with him, it often is **)**. She tilts to the right to dodge before taking a few steps forward and leaning against the back of one of the couches. She'll pick the book up later.

 

“ _That may be true, but it's possible I could have helped her. You know I sometimes take cases of my own if I think there's anything I can do,_ ” she says, shaking her head a little and giving him a pointed look. Of course, the work she usually does separate from Neuro more often than not involves negotiation or criminal profiling of some sort. But there is still the _**occasional**_ exception.

 

He raises an eyebrow at her in response before throwing another book. She ducks, once again avoiding being hit.

 

“ _The case did not fit your usual work and would have been a waste of both my time and yours,_ ” he says, green eyes flashing and a slight smirk twitching at his lips. “ _There is a puzzle nearby that has been ripening for about a week, and I expect that today it will come to fruition. So, be ready to move at any moment, top-slug._ ”

 

“ _—Well, I'd still appreciate it if you'd let me decide that for myself next time,_ ” Yako shoots back with both an irritated sigh and a resigned shrug. “ _But I guess it can't be helped if we're chasing a puzzle today. Even if I went after her now, she likely wouldn't want to talk to me anyway with how upset she seemed. What did you_ _ **say**_ _to her?_ ”

 

“ _The exact same thing that I have said to all of the others,_ ” Neuro replies absently, waving his hand vaguely in the air as though he's attempting to bat the conversation away like an annoying fly. He's already swiveled his chair around to look out the window and seems entirely uninterested in talking about the woman with no puzzle any longer. Which she can't exactly hold against him with the knowledge that there's a mystery just on the horizon; it's been a few days since they've had a case and she's sure he's hungry.

 

Deciding to let the topic drop, she retraces her steps towards the door to pick up the books that her partner had hurled her way during their conversation. Though, just because she's no longer speaking to the demon about it doesn't mean that she's stopping thinking about it yet. Which, if she's being honest, in and of itself is a bit odd.

 

Normally when someone decides to make a big scene to her face, she's quickly moved on and within a few minutes has her focus set on something else. There's been more people than she could possibly keep track of that they've turned away over the years, and the backlash that comes along with it is, sadly, something she's grown rather _**numb**_ to most of the time. She's sure that within a few hours, there will be a post from the woman or someone she knows popping up on a forum to slam her for not accepting the case. With how worked up she'd seemed, it's likely that it will be a particularly nasty one, too, and spark either a bashing session from other people who still hold a grudge, or an argument if any of her fans try to defend her. It's nothing she ever gets involved with, and has only ever watched from the sidelines if she happens to stumble upon it; she tries to keep her presence on the internet very limited. It will all blow over in a few days, anyway. It always does.

 

Of course, the harsh words and assumptions about her can occasionally be a little scathing, even with her aforementioned thick skin. Neuro throws insults at her constantly so she's rarely ever bothered by digs at her intelligence or appearance. But what _**can**_ actually bother her even just a _**little**_ bit is when people claim that she has no _**heart**_ , no _**compassion**_ , no sense of _**justice**_.

 

She's _**been**_ the scared and sad victim that lost someone close to them to an unjust death. _**More**_ than once she's been in those shoes. She knows what it's like, and knows how desperately those people want results, want any semblance of peace that they can get their hands on. And if it _**were**_ actually up to her heart, her compassion, and her sense of justice, she'd take on almost every case that comes through her door. But it's _**not**_ up to those things. She knows she can't take on more than she can carry; it will only hurt both the work she does on her own, and the the work she does with Neuro. If she tries to help everybody, in the long run she'll end up helping nobody. So, unless she thinks there's a special element to a case that fits her niche, she lets her partner send people out the door time and time again, regardless of how it can sadden her to do so. Because she is only one person.

 

And Neuro is the same way. Of course, unlike Yako, he cares very little about the emotions of the clients that come through the door and how they feel when they get turned away. He does not solve cases because of a twinge in his heart, compassion, or any sense of justice—he solves them to _**survive**_. It is easier for him to turn people down because not only is he not human, but if he does not, it will _**literally**_ be a detriment to his health. Even though he's a demon and is stronger, faster, and more capable than she is in many areas, he is _**not**_ invincible. If a case does not have a puzzle big enough for him to gain anything from, he cannot afford to pursue it lest he risk exhausting his demonic energy. He isn't truly meant to live on her plane of existence and therefore needs to be mindful of what his energy will be put towards. Because he can only spare so much.

 

_**Neither**_ of them can afford to stretch themselves too thin.

 

And that does not make them heartless, without compassion, or without a sense of justice **(** yes, even Neuro possesses some sort of demonic equivalent to those very human qualities—she's seen them herself first hand **)**. It means they have limits, just like everyone else, and that they know what they are. It means they know how to _**not**_ be swallowed whole by the desire to do more than they are capable of doing.

 

She's been standing stationary with the books the demon had thrown in her arms for a few minutes, lost in her thoughts. But she's snapped free now, and begins to cross the room, so she can put them back in their proper place. Her heels click against the floor of their office, and are soon joined by the sound of a desk chair creaking as it turns. Brown eyes flick to her left, and her gaze meets with her partner's briefly. A soft smile starts to tug at her lips, but she quickly notices that he's wearing a smirk on his face and holding another book in his hand. And he starts to raise it up...!

 

Instinctively, she ducks and raises the ones she has in her own grasp up to protect her face from another onslaught. But even after a moment of waiting, it never comes. Instead, when she risks taking a peek back at Troy, she suddenly feels gloved talons latching onto her head from behind, and yanking her violently across the room.

 

“ _It is time,_ ” Neuro says, before she's even had a chance to let out a soft yelp of pain. There's a smile evident in his voice, even though she cannot see his face.

 

“ _All right, all right,_ ” she answers, wriggling in his grasp in an attempt to stand up. “ _Let me grab my purse, at least?_ ”

 

He drops her to the ground unceremoniously, prompting a loud grunt to fall out of her mouth. And not a few minutes later, they're already out the door, hurrying towards a puzzle that will hopefully help keep the demon's hunger at bay. There's anticipation coming off of him in waves, and Yako almost chuckles at how much he's been apparently looking forward to this case. And when they arrive, both bystanders and those related to the victim alike look at them with such relief and sudden confidence that the murder will soon be resolved, that she is _**instantly**_ determined to prove them right.

 

She does all that she _**can**_ , and it is _**worth**_ it.

 


	6. Prompt - Motive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A series of drabbles for MTNN Week on tumblr.  
> Set after the manga's ending.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the drabble for the sixth prompt: "Motive"! I'm actually pretty happy with how this one turned out, even though I was having trouble focusing while writing it lmao.
> 
> Feedback and/or critique is always appreciated! Enjoy!

There's two large bouquets in her arms and a demon at her side as she walks through the rows of graves.

 

Why Neuro's decided to accompany her, she hasn't the slightest idea. He generally avoids most everything to do with human mourning traditions **(** or, well, most traditions in general **)** unless it's to keep up appearances somehow. Years prior, he had attended Sasazuka's funeral, but beyond that hasn't ever bothered to come with her when she visits his grave. The same goes for her father—that she knows of, he's never even _**seen**_ his grave, despite being the one to solve his murder in the first place.

 

So, the fact that he's walking behind her, not offering even a _**single**_ explanation to his presence is strange. Oh, she'd definitely _**tried**_ to get one. Yako's expression in response to noticing him walking out the door of the office with her had likely been one of absolute bewilderment. And when she had asked what he was doing, the demon had merely said something along the lines of, “ _it's none of your concern what I choose to do, slug._ ” Continued attempts to pry any sort of clue or bit of information out of him had been met with neck-twists or other forms of “torture”. And though she doesn't necessarily like it, she _**can**_ take a hint; she's not getting an answer no matter how she tries. At least, not yet. For whatever reason, he's following her, and that's that.

 

The click of her heels against the pavement finally slows to a stop and she turns to face the first grave that she's decided to visit during their trip: Sasazuka's.

 

Her frame is still, brown eyes simply staring at his name for a few moments while she tries not to think too hard about the day he had been killed. She's there to remember times with him that _**didn't**_ have to do with his death, not to brood or be sad. And though it's a little _**difficult**_ not to think about that day while she stands right in front of his resting place, she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath in through her nose, then out of her mouth. She can't forget his death, of course—“ _to forget is to cease to evolve_ ”—but there's a difference between forgetting something and choosing not to focus too heavily upon it. And she's choosing to do just that by letting memories of his calm demeanor, deep voice, and ever watchful gaze fill her mind instead.

 

The grip she has upon the flowers in her hands tightens suddenly before she opens her eyes again and kneels down to the ground to begin unwrapping the paper from around one of the bouquets. And as she does so, she looks over his grave once more, taking in the details rather than focusing only on his surname staring her in the face. It's been extremely well kept; while there aren't any flowers in the vase at the moment, everything else still looks about as nice as it had the day of the funeral itself. And, unsurprisingly, there's a fresh cigarette sitting where incense should be, making a soft smile spread across her lips. Usui has been there. Within the past couple of days, if she's to take a guess. Though he would likely never admit it, _**especially**_ to her, she's suspected for quite some time that he makes frequent visits to Sasazuka's grave. There hasn't _**ever**_ been a time she's visited it that a cigarette hasn't also placed there in his memory.

 

Gathering the stems in her hands once they're free from the paper, she begins to place the lilies into the vase in front of her a few at a time, adjusting their arrangement as she goes. And once she's finished, Yako finds that her vision is starting to blur ever so slightly. She pauses, a bit taken aback at the abrupt and unexpected sensation of her eyes tearing up; it's actually been a long time since she's cried about the detective's passing. Blinking in rapid succession, she brings a hand up to quickly rub the corners of her eyes free of anything that had managed to slip out. Then, she stands, grabbing the second bouquet off of the ground as she goes, and gives her handiwork one last look.

 

“ _—I miss you, Sasazuka-san,_ ” she finally lets herself say, completely forgetting that Neuro is standing right behind her. Though even when she turns around and is instantly _**reminded**_ , he doesn't speak a single word. The demon merely looks at her curiously with his arms crossed, not moving a muscle. As though he's waiting for her to do something.

 

She can only stare back dumbly for a few moments before her brain feels like it's rebooted and she can remember what she's in the middle of. Turning on her heel to the left, she starts to walk once more, making her way towards their second destination. The sound of her heels almost covers up the sound of her partner's loafers falling in step right behind her, but not quite. And again, it's _**strange**_ —both the fact that he's with her on such a trip and the fact that he's following her, not walking right beside her or dragging her along by the head.

 

However, her thoughts regarding Neuro's abnormal behavior are put on hold a second time as her feet eventually find the spot she's seeking: her father's grave.

 

It's been some time since she's been there last, cases and her own individual work keeping her quite busy in her day to day life. But despite that, Seiichi's resting place isn't neglected or forgotten about, it seems. While not as well kept as Sasazuka's, it's still actually rather clean, with evidence that flowers and incense have been placed there fairly recently, even if they're now wilted and burned out from the passage of time. She suspects her mother might have made a visit within the past month, and a somewhat melancholy smile tugs at her lips. Perhaps the two of them would be able to visit _**together**_ rather than separately next time.

 

With less time spent hesitating than before, she kneels down again, and sets the bouquet in her hands on the ground so that she can clean out the old flowers. It's not a complicated or long process, but she doesn't work with any sense of urgency—it gives her time to really think about her father and remember the good times that she had with him before his life had been cruelly snuffed out. All of the times that he had took the time to help her with her homework, trying to make her understand even if he found it incredibly easy. All of the times that he had sneaked out with her to have a proper dinner after Haruka had been cooking, letting her get her favorites and even dessert afterwards. All of the times he had been there for her in small ways that she hadn't even noticed or realized until he was gone that she _**desperately**_ wishes she could have back.

 

Her hands waver as they move to unwrap the second bouquet, the realization of how long it has truly been since his death suddenly hitting her. Somehow, the time that's passed since Sasazuka's death seems right and natural, no matter how much she does miss him. But the time since her father's? It seems _**wrong**_ somehow. Wrong that it has been that long since she's heard his voice, seen his smile, or felt his arms around her. And she realizes how much she really _**does**_ miss him, even though on any average day, she isn't reminded of it much. But kneeling in front of his grave with flowers in her hands? For some reason, the loss almost feels fresh again in a way that Yako hasn't felt since it actually _**had**_ been. On the day of his funeral—the day that she had met Neuro.

 

And while she knows that it had been the mystery of his death that had initially drawn the demon to her in the first place, she suddenly feels a twinge of _**regret**_ that they had to meet the way that they did. Because she wishes that Seiichi could have been there to watch her change, watch her grow, watch her _**evolve**_. In so many ways, she's an entirely different person than the aimless teenager that her father had known her to be. She wonders what he would say if he could see her now, a famous “detective” known all across the world; if he'd be surprised or even able to believe it. She wonders what he would think of Neuro; if he'd be fooled by his facade just as easily as most other people are. She wonders what he would tell her about the outrageous cases she's solved; if he'd be worried about her safety or proud of her for doing what she does.

 

She can wonder, but she'll never _**know**_. And while she understands it's impossible and not even something worth fantasizing or thinking about, Yako still wishes that she could have her father back, but _**also**_ have her current life with Neuro. It's so very _**human**_ to want to have the cake and eat it too, and she is doing exactly that: wanting what was taken from her, even if it had put her where she happily is today.

 

Because Takeda had taken a parent from her without a second thought over something so pointless, so minuscule, so _**nonsensical**_. She's dealt with countless murders and motives over the years, and some of them have had the most bizarre and off the wall motives that could ever be imagined. But if given enough time, she can usually get at least a semblance, a _**shred**_ of understanding to register in her mind, because that is her forte: deciphering the “why”. Even Sicks, as much as she still loathes him even after death, had a motive that she can comprehend. But Takeda? She isn't sure she'll ever be able to wrap her mind around why he did what he did, regardless of the fact that she's dealt with other criminals with motivations eerily _**similar**_ to his own. He remains an enigma to her, and it doesn't exactly bother her, because she knows it's likely due to the fact that he took her father from her.

 

And for some reason, she feels like telling her partner this.

 

“ _To this day I don't understand why Takeda did it,_ ” she says, realizing that she has tears in her eyes again. Shutting her lids, she breathes deeply a few times before continuing. “ _I've learned to understand and sniff out some of the most bizarre motives for cases anyone's ever heard, but I_ _ **still**_ _can't wrap my mind around this. And I don't know that I ever will._ ”

 

Neuro is silent behind her; she can't even hear him breathing. But she can feel his _**eyes**_ drilling into the back of her head, and if she had to guess, their demonic nature is on full display. Green, bright, and glowing, even in the middle of the day. And, most of the time, when she can physically feel his gaze baring down on her, it can be nerve wracking. But somehow, as she holds back tears and places lilies in a vase at Seiichi's grave, it's _**comforting**_ in a way that she can't accurately describe. Like an anchor on a ship, keeping her in place while a storm rages around her.

 

“ _—I miss him,_ ” she adds, and she _**swears**_ she can feel the demon's gaze intensify just the slightest bit.

 

Once she had finished arranging the flowers, he had followed her the entire way back to her apartment, but hadn't accompanied her inside. Which, she was actually a little bit grateful for. It gave her time to cry what few tears she could bring herself to shed before completely collecting herself again. And as she's standing in front of her stove making herself dinner, she hears her window unlatch and his loafers land on her carpet. How like him to show up at _**just**_ the right time, as though he somehow _**knows**_ that she's back to her old self again.

 

Turning around, Yako smiles at him. He still hasn't told her why he'd come with her to visit the graves, and she doesn't even have a _**guess**_ that she can make herself. But whether or not he ever tells her, she finds she doesn't care that much.

 

She's just glad he'd been there at all.

 


	7. Prompt - Identity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A series of drabbles for MTNN Week on tumblr.  
> Set after the manga's ending.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we go! Here's the final drabble for the "Identity" prompt! 
> 
> I had a lot of fun working on these throughout the week, but boy, am I ready for a break haha! I hope you've all enjoyed them!
> 
> As always, feedback and/or critique is appreciated! Enjoy!

She stares at the screen with a certain amount of surprise, having not been expecting what she sees staring back at her at all.

 

One of the rare times that she actually bothers to check her social media accounts, and _**this**_ is one of the first things she stumbles upon? A recording of her being thrown on stage during Aya's concert? Who had even posted it? It has to be at _**least**_ five years old now; why would anyone even bother? The same exact video had circulated countless times from countless different sources at the time—it had been a live show, after all. Did yet another video of the same old thing really need to be dredged up again? Especially since it had happened that long ago?

 

Yet, as much as its appearance on the page she's scrolling through confuses her, Yako can't help but stop to watch the video in its entirety. She sees the former star singing on stage, entrancing the audience as she's always been able to. Then, right in front of the cameras, she watches her teenage self suddenly fly through the air and land precisely in the right spot where everyone watching would be able to see her. There's a few seconds where everything is still, and everyone except the demon hidden in the crowd is wearing an expression of pure bewilderment. And finally, she watches her past self's hand shoot up into the air and swoop forward to point at Aya. Though she doesn't have the sound for the video turned on, she can still hear in her memories the shocked and confused murmurs echoing throughout the room when she'd said her line.

 

The recording ends there, which is a little odd; she knows that longer versions of the video exist, since she had been forced to see them everywhere for weeks after the incident. But that's not the reason she keeps gazing at her computer with a surprised look frozen upon her face. No, she's taken aback by something else entirely.

 

—She had been so _**different**_ back then.

 

The girl thrown onto the stage had looked so small, so shocked, and so out of her element. And though she can recognize it as herself and remember everything that she had been feeling in those moments, she still feels as though there's such a great separation. Almost like the person she sees on the screen is just the slightest bit foreign to her, even though she shouldn't be.

 

Because she knows now what to expect if Neuro brings her into a situation like that one. She knows how to react if he thrusts her into the middle of something bizarre. She knows how to improvise, how to settle things down if need be, how to barrel forward and make sure that her voice reaches exactly who it needs to reach. It's become second nature to her, and though cases can still throw her for a loop or catch her off guard, she's rarely ever frozen in place or at a loss for what to do. But the girl in the video had only just started working with a demon. She didn't know him, how to deal with him, how to react to cases, or know to expect something like being thrown on a stage in front of tens of thousands of people. It had been the very beginning of her journey, the first “real” case she'd worked, and the first time she'd ever shown her potential for reading the human heart. And it makes her think about how much she really has _**changed**_ over the years.

 

Of course, she already _**knows**_ she's changed. It's something that she's reminded of quite often through various little things. Yet seeing it with her own eyes in such a way is making _**all**_ of it hit her at once. In comparison to the girl on the screen, she feels like an entirely different person. And, honestly, she kind of is. Not in a sense that she considers to be bad or unnatural, obviously—there's still very _**core**_ elements of herself that remain and make her who she is. No, it's more that she's been molded a specific very way. Still the same material that she's always been, but in a different shape than before.

 

The ups and downs she's had in her life, the experience she's gained, the people she's met, her own determination to grow, and Neuro's harsh but effective methods—all of it and more have made her exactly who she is in the present. And, on an even more general scale, the demon himself had been the one to jump start it _**all**_. Had he not tore his way out of hell and landed in her world right where he had, her life would be drastically different. There's been people she's met that have affected her on a very grand scale, but _**none**_ such as him. No one has managed to touch her life the same that he has.

 

He's turned her world upside down, and she finds she _**likes**_ it that way now.

 

Because just like her, so too has her _**partner**_ changed with time. Just as he had waltzed in and flipped everything she thought she knew on its head, so too have humans given him a brand new perspective. The demon that once only saw her species as a field to harvest mysteries from had quickly had his curiosity piqued by their ways. He'd gained an interest in them beyond the food that they could offer him, and then a certain amount of fondness for them. And finally, though he would likely not admit it easily, a type of _**respect**_ and willingness to _**protect**_ them. The human race gives him puzzles, and in return, he will keep it safe from threats like Sicks.

 

And though it may come off as presumptuous, Yako likes to think that she _**specifically**_ has played a large roll in his growth as well, just as he has in her's. She's the human that he spends the most of his time around, that has heard the most about him and his time in hell. She is always the first **(** and likely the only **)** person to hear his questions regarding humanity and his struggles with understanding it. She is the one that he has found common ground with, regarding their shared ravenous appetites. She is the one that he can speak to without words, using only his _**eyes**_ to convey what it is he wants to say.

 

They _**both**_ have evolved in each other's company, poking and prodding and pushing each other in ways that practically make it impossible for them not to be constantly learning and changing. And though they are more than capable of existing and growing without one another, she thinks that it is when they are _**together**_ that they are at their best. Because they are partners, moving forward and taking whatever the world can throw at them as a team. And just like how seeing her younger self in the video on her laptop is jarring to her now, so too will a video from who she is in the present likely seem strange and distant to her in the future. She knows this because she is confident that the two of them will not plateau or become stagnant.

 

Even if the pace eventually slows, she strives for the two of them to be both growing even just a little whenever possible up until the day that she passes. And then, after that, she hopes that the demon can continue onward with his long life, learning one _**final**_ lesson about humanity from her in death.

 

The screen on her laptop is suddenly pushed down with an abrupt _clap_ , and she twitches ever-so-slightly in surprise as she is pulled from her thoughts. Brown eyes snap up, and she is met with the sight of Neuro staring down at her with one brow raised. He doesn't even have to say anything; she can already see the question in his gaze. Realization dawns on her that she's been sitting in her chair staring into space for likely half an hour, completely forgetting that she had only meant to briefly check up on a few things before looking through a stack of papers for articles that could contain potential mysteries. But she had gotten sidetracked after seeing the video, she remembers as she squeezes her eyes shut in frustration. Long enough for him to notice and decide to come and pull her out of her musings himself. And to be honest, she's actually surprised that he hasn't used her distraction as an excuse to “punish” her somehow like he usually does in situations such as this. Letting her eyes slip open again, she tilts her head a little and inspects his expression.

 

And there in the swirling green of his irises, she finds a _**knowing**_ look, as though he is completely aware of what had caught and kept her attention.

 

Had she been that _**candid**_ in her thinking? Had it really been so obvious that she had been thinking about him? How he'd changed her life? How they'd evolved together? Perhaps he'd managed to get a glimpse of the video and had pieced it together from there? Regardless, he seems at least somewhat aware of what had been occupying her thoughts, and there's no use in trying to deny or hide it. She gives both a small smile and half-shrug before standing up to get on with the task that she's supposed to be doing. Of course, he could still stop her to inflict some sort of “torture” upon her, but there's always the small chance that he _**won't**_ if it will keep her from finding him more food.

 

Though, to her surprise, he stops her by gripping her shoulder as she moves past him. And while his grip is far tighter than that of a normal human's and may leave a tiny bruise, it's still no where near the level of the “abuse” he normally puts her through. It's obviously just what it seems to be: he's stopping her, and nothing more. She glances up at him quizzically, but instead of looking down at her to answer, he simply begins walking, making his way across the office to stand in front of the windows overlooking the city.

 

Then, after a moment or two, he turns his head just enough for her to see that he's beckoning her with his eyes to _**join**_ him.

 

Without a moment's hesitation, her heels begin to click against the floor as Yako hurries after the demon and stops only when she's standing right beside him. And there they stand, silently looking through the glass at the street and people down beneath them. These are the moments she thinks she enjoys the most: the quiet ones where they soak up each other's presence and company. Not needing to say anything, just simply being together. She wouldn't trade it for anything in the world; she's exactly where she wants to be. There's no where else she can think she'd rather be, nor can she imagine her life any other way, despite the fact that it very well could have been. Some other mystery could have just as easily lured the demon to another human, but he had landed in the _**exact**_ right place to follow the one that would lead him to her.

 

A smile tugs at her lips, and she slowly reaches out to grab a hold of his hand, meshing her fingers in between his own. It is a _**bold**_ move, one that could easily either deepen the moment, or cause it to crumble, depending upon whether or not he is willing to put up with any kind of human affection. But finally, after a few long seconds of contemplation, he returns the gesture, his fingers curling up to grasp her hand in his own.

 

And as they stare out the window and grip each other tightly, she can't help but remember the first time that she had ever seen him: standing on the wall and warping the very world around him as she sat on the floor trembling in utter shock. Back then, neither one of them likely could have even _**imagined**_ how both of their lives were going to change, and how much they were going to overcome.

 

They've come _**so**_ far since then.

 

And she can't wait to see how far they'll _**go**_.

 


End file.
